


The Lost Journal

by That_brunette_in_red



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Good Sister Mabel Pines, No Angst, Pre-Portal Incident (Gravity Falls), The Journals (Gravity Falls)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23182129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_brunette_in_red/pseuds/That_brunette_in_red
Summary: Dipper discovers something about his uncle.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	The Lost Journal

"Wha-- Mabel! What did you do with my journal?"

Dipper dug frantically through piles of unwashed clothes on the floor. Mabel's voice rang out from beneath him.

"I glitzed it up! It looked old and depressing!"

Sighing, Dipper ran downstairs from the attic and into the kitchen where, lo and behold, his sister sat with her pig at the table bejewelling the front cover of his journal. 

"This is important, Mabel," he said, exasperated as he snatched it back, eyeing the glued on jewels with disgust before brushing them off. 

"You're just boring." Mabel smushed her face against Waddles' own before standing, brushing glitter and glam off of her pale blue sweater. Today was a sky theme, apparently. She had dozens of sweaters, each themed and changed every day to suit a specific mood. 

Dipper could never. He was comfortable enough sporting a worn baseball cap, simple shorts, a vest and t-shirt. 

"Where'd you find that thing, kid?" Stan, or their Grunkle Stan as they called him, shuffled inside to grab a drink from the fridge. It was a hot 48° and Stan preferred to spend it outdoors, claiming he wanted to get a tan to "get all those babes". 

Obviously. 

"In the forest," Dipper replied, casual enough as he sat in the window seat, curled up, nose buried in the book he'd pored over all summer so far. Stan grunted and shook his head. 

"You kids should get outside. Put the book down, get some sun. Watch Soos for me, he's mowin' the lawn and I'm afraid he'll somehow cut himself in half." Stan straightened from the fridge and closed it.

"But there's something I'm missing," Dipper protested. Stan sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"Relax. It's not goin' anywhere. Now go on," he prompted, pushing Dipper's hat further down his head. With a sigh of defeat and a betrayed look, Dipper reluctantly parted with it and ran outside after a whooping Mabel. 

Stan smiled until they faded from view. Slowly, he grabbed the book and closed it, eyeing the gold hand on the front cover, still vaguely covered in glue and sparkles of glitter. "Sorry, Ford," he said gruffly as he tucked it under his arm, turning to leave. "Looks better this way, though."

As he disappeared into the darkness of the house, Dipper kicked a rock to Mabel, who pretended to kick it back and forth as if it were a soccer ball. She kicked the air above it and pretended to watch it go zooming down the green. "Score, Mabel! Dipper, soccer is clearly not your strong suit."

"Wish Stan would let me back in there," he mourned as he glanced back at the Shack. Mabel put her hands on her hips. 

"You need something else to focus on besides that dumb journal," she said, and pointed at him. "Let's go visit Wendy!" Her face lit up. "Because you looove her," she continued, crooning, and Dipper pushed her face away -- but couldn't hide the bright red of his face. 

"Fine, we'll go see Wendy. Only because you asked to," he added hastily. She cheered and dragged him onwards, and he finally smiled as he followed her. 

"Almost there," Stan muttered to himself, wiping his brow and looking towards the shape behind the glass. His fingers absently danced over the journals on the table. "Almost there."

////

It was gone. 

Dipper searched the whole house. He looked under the beds, inside Stan's room, shone a flashlight into Waddle's mouth, in a pile of Mabel's sweaters -- nowhere. 

"Mabel!" He thundered down the stairs, eyebrows close together. "I can't find it."

"Geez, for someone who cares so much for this thing you sure do misplace it a lot," she mentioned without glancing up from her magazine. 

"I left it right here!" He gestured wildly to the window seat, pillows untouched since he sat there last. Mabel got up, frowning. 

"Huh," she said, stroking her chin. "Maybe Stan picked it up?"

"But why? What would he want with it? He doesn't even believe that there's anything happening in Gravity Falls," he protested. Mabel threw her hands up, eyes wide. 

"Maybe he's secretly leading a double life and needs it to save the world?" Her suggestion sounded hopeful.

"Be serious, Mabel, this isn't one of your tv shows," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe Soos borrowed it or something." He looked up, troubled. "I have to get it back." With that, he ran through the front door in search of Soos. 

Mabel blinked after him, then looked to a content Waddles lying in the sun. "Did you take it?"

Waddles oinked. Translation: no I did not. Mabel sighed and looked out the open front door. 

////

"Sorry dude, haven't seen it," Soos mentioned as he looked up from his game in the arcade in town, button mashing with a furious concentration. "Ooh! Take that, you gelatinous goop!"

Dipper frowned. 

Dusk was falling across the town -- beautiful golden-dark light replaced the bright rays of the sun and the stars began to peek out. The forest was quiet. Once he stepped through the front door he saw Mabel, Wendy and Waddles all sat in front of the tv, eating chips and watching bad movies. 

Dipper was almost tempted to join them, but couldn't muster the mood. Strange that Stan wasn't there, he loved watching old movies and making fun of them. 

"You guys seen grunkle Stan anywhere?" he prompted, and Wendy looked over. 

"No, I'm sure he's at a bingo hall swindling his way to big money," she said nonchalantly. "C'mon, dude, we're watching Old Feller, it's a classic."

"Get help, old feller!"

"Well get off my property, you hillbillying hootenanier!" 

"Ha, he sounds like McGucket," Mabel teased.

"Sounds totally fun, but -- " Dipper faked a yawn, watching them to see if they fell for it. "Boy, I'm tired. Had a long day... talking to Soos and... walking." 

Wendy shrugged and turned her attention to the screen. "Okay, dude."

He laughed nervously, sighing as he turned around to face the dark room. 

He wasn't a huge fan of the Shack at night. Stan's creations were too fake, their eyes too bright, yet too oddly lifelike. The duckbear in the corner bared glistening teeth and the wompire seemed to grab his hat as he brushed by. 

Strangely, the vending machine was glowing faintly, in a way Dipper hadn't seen before. He crept closer to find that it wasn't closed properly -- as in, from behind it there was light, and a staircase leading downstairs. 

"Woah," he whispered and snuck through the gap, closing it behind him. 

He looked around incredulously and heard banging below, then a faint cussing noise and a loud clatter. 

"Son of a -- "

Dipper turned his attention to the scratched walls, running his fingers over the marks and wondering what could have made them. He reached the bottom floor. He rounded the corner. 

He froze. 

There was a laboratory -- under the Mystery Shack. A giant control panel, multiple gadgets scattered around the room and desk, pin boards with pictures, newspaper clippings and hastily scrawled notes, all linked with tacks and a bright red string. 

A scratched window, a door and behind all that, a massive machine -- triangular in shape, and emitting a soft blue light. Electricity in the air Dipper could feel along his arms. 

Stan, kneeling at the base of the machine, a hammer at his side, clutching his reddening thumb. "Why you absolute -- hunk of junk -- piece of sh-- "

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper moved hesitantly closer, staring blanky through the glass. Stan looked up, and the colour drained from his face. 

"Dipper?" He scrambled to his feet. Dipper looked at the console and spotted not only his journal, but two more -- 1 and 3 respectively. 

His eyes widened. 

"You... you took the journal?" He touched the front cover, looked up at Stan. "But why? Why would you -- what -- what is happening?"

"Kid, get back upstairs -- "

"Why have you been hiding all this? What is that thing?" Dipper's voice got louder, he grabbed his book and clutched it to his chest. Stan moved with him, reaching out a hand. 

"Listen, I can explain -- "

"What are you building? What is that thing?" Dipper demanded, heart beating faster than it should be. Mabel was right, he thought numbly.

"Listen to me, Dipper, calm down for just a second." Stan raised his hands and tried desperately to think of a way out of the situation -- anything so he would never again have to see that look of betrayal. "This is gonna sound a little crazy," he said slowly, and his eyes landed on the Memory Gun. 

His heart sank, and he glanced at Dipper's helpless expression. He was just a kid. Stan couldn't tell him -- not yet. It was nowhere near being fully functional.

"Dipper, I -- " He stumbled over his words as he slowly grabbed the Memory Gun, cringing to himself at how far he'd fallen. To wipe the memory of his own nephew -- "I'm -- I'm sorry."

Twisting the dial until it said "Stan's secret basement portal", he readied the gun and aimed at Dipper's head. Dipper let out a cry of protest, and the gun fired. 

Stan walked over, tossing the gun underneath the console. Dipper sat up, groaning. He blinked up at Stan, who mustered a fake smile. 

"You okay, kid? I found your journal," he spoke, handing it over, a pang in his chest as he did so. You'll get it back, Stan. Patience, he thought to himself. 

"Wha--? What happened?" Dipper got to his feet, brushed himself off. Stan dropped a hand on his shoulder and started walking him up the stairs. 

"You fell like an idiot," he laughed and ruffled his cap. "You're okay though, right? Hospital bills are killer these days."

"Heh, I'm fine." Dipper held the journal close and started up the stairs. 

"Good. Now get to bed, it's late," Stan called after him, still forcing a smile. Dipper ran off, and his smile dropped. 

Too close for comfort, Stanley. Way too close. 

Once outside the vending machine door, it swiveled shut behind him and Dipper scratched his head, confused. "Man, it's late," he said to himself as he glanced at his blinking watch. Yawning, he stumbled up the stairs and fell into bed, unaware that anything out of the ordinary had happened. 

Stan grunted with frustration as he slammed the hammer down, leaning back on his heels and rubbing his burning eyes. "Almost there," he said gruffly. "Almost."

"I'll get you back home. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one shot -- I've never written anything Gravity Falls before and wanted to give it a shot because I loved the show


End file.
